


Strawberry Cake

by sztikerami



Category: Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5729335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sztikerami/pseuds/sztikerami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reita brings his sick boyfriend a strawberry cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Epertorta](https://archiveofourown.org/works/970126) by [sz_rami (sztikerami)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sztikerami/pseuds/sz_rami). 



> This happens in 2010 when the GazettE canceled their tour due to Ruki experiencing some problems with his vocal cords.
> 
> English isn't first language. This wasn't beta-ed.

Everyone knew that Ruki hated strawberries to the core. Even the blind would have easily noticed the chills running down his spine at the sight of strawberry pastries, but the smell alone was enough to make him gag. Once when they had a signing session, he could barely avoid throwing up right then and there when the smell of a fangirl's strawberry-scented shampoo reached his nostrils. And not only that, Ruki hated strawberry-shaped things too, so he solely chose his girlfriends by one very important criteria: they mustn't own anything with a strawberry shape or pattern. Considering he lived in Japan where cute things were very much appreciated - and may I say overvalued -, finding a girl that met this certain criteria was an incredibly hard task.

Everyone knew that Ruki hated strawberries to the core - everyone but Reita. Being a clumsy idiot, Reita's brain always failed to register important informations like this certain one. That's how he ended up bringing Ruki a giant cake filled with strawberry cream and decorated with real strawberries, when he visited the absent vocalist. Poor sick Ruki watched with obvious horror and disgust as Reita put the large box down on the kitchen counter and opened it up.

He barely had any voice at all, and in protection of his vocal cords, Ruki's doctor forbade him to speak, so visits of his bandmates usually ended up cut short and honestly, they were way too awkward. He either needed to play mime, scribble down what he wanted to tell on a piece of paper or use his cellphone's screen. He hated it, and he was glad for Koron understanding him without words, because no one else did.

"I was thinking we could celebrate tonight." the bassist stated with a grin.

Ruki sighed and sat down by the table - turning his back to the hideous cake -, and buried his face in his hands. What on Earth would this idiot want to celebrate today?

"If only you weren't sick. I was going to take you out to a horror movie tonight, but it's better if we don't leave the house I guess. I don't want to chance anything bad happen to your vocal cords - the brunette went on, ranting as he cut a slice of cake. Ruki didn't understand what this sudden fuss could be about. - So let's just stay home. On my way back I stopped by the rental to picked the entire Saw series up, I hope it'll do for tonight. If only you were a chick, it'd be so much easier to please you... they don't care about what film we watch as long as it's sappy romance, but you have an actual good, and may I add, picky taste. Which is great, really, but I always have a hard time guessing what you'd like.

'Maybe you not bringing me strawberry cakes. That'd definitely be something I'd like.' Ruki thought.

The bassist searched the drawer for a dessert fork, then set the slice of cake in front of Ruki.

"Enjoy." Reita chirped happily. Ruki stared at his food and swallowed hard. He was expected to eat this? The cake looked anything but apetising, no, it looked absolutely disgusting! But Reita was watching him with a happy expectation written all over his face, hands put together, and the vocalist didn't have the heart to hurt his feelings. He slowly reached out for the fork, but hesitated to taste the cake. He tried to buy himself some time by asking Reita if he was going to eat too.

"Oh, no thanks." the bassist smiled. "You know this isn't my cup of tea, I only like cheesecakes, these fruity ones give me the chills."

'Me too.' Ruki mentally sighed and grabbed his fork again, ignoring the urge to tell Reita about how much he hated strawberry cake. How come Reita of all people didn't know about this? They had been together for years now, but this idiot wasn't even aware of such important information.

Reita suddenly leaned closer to him and before Ruki could put the first bite of cake in his mouth, he planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"Happy anniversary." he said cheerfully, then waltzed up to the fridge to pull out some barley tea for himself and a bottle of vitamin water for Ruki.

The short vocalist felt himself awful all of a sudden. Anniversary? So that's what all this fuss was about. That's why Reita brought a cake, that's why he wanted to take him out to the movies and that's why he was so cheerful. Today was their anniversary, they started dating four years ago today. And Ruki had forgotten, he hadn't even bought Reita a present.

He smiled at the bassist as if he was saying thank you and wishing a happy anniversary mentally, and this time he reached out for his fork without any sort of hesitation and put a small piece of cake into his mouth. It tasted horrible. Ruki felt like he was going to be sick, but he swallowed it, and what is more, he was a good enough actor to pretend he liked it. Because there was nothing else he could do now but eat that fucking cake, even if it kills him. Even if it kills him. He'd been a douche to forget about their anniversary, the least he could do now was not ruining Reita's mood. So Ruki ignored the possible consequences of eating that slice of cake.

At around 2am, a desperate Reita called the hospital to ask for advice, because his boyfriend wouldn't stop vomiting.


End file.
